Empty
by girlwithangelwings
Summary: " 'Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off' Lily knew his wand was still on the couch, she knew she had to protect Harry and she knew the glance she cast over her shoulder to her husband would be the last time she'd see him alive." What if it isn't though? A.U. where James, Lily and Harry survive.


**A.N. The 'what-ifs' were too much. I had to write this. Lemme know if you guys want more of this AU. Love, girlwithangelwings.**

 _ **Empty bed**_

The bed was cold and it was not supposed to be this cold, even though a thin layer of April snow was covering the world.

Lily Potter rolled over to her husband's side of the bed, but when emptiness greeted her instead of his arms, she rose from the peaceful half sleepy state she had been in. The room was dark, it was probably still closer to midnight than morning. However, even in the pitch black room – James couldn't sleep with any light anywhere in the room – Lily could see he simply wasn't there.

She frowned, sat up and put her feet on the icy stone floor. She scuttled to the door, grabbing her bathrobe on touch and slipping it on. It turned out to be his, as it was bigger, less fluffy and smelled of him. Opening the bedroom door, she could see a light burning in the nursery.

She passed through the hallway – skipping Harry's door – and leaned into the doorframe of the nursery. James was sitting in the rocking chair, in nothing but an old pair of quidditch trousers. His lean upper body was mostly covered by the tiny bundle he was holding. From the white with pink bunnies blanket arose soft cooing and the familiar mop of red hair of her daughter. James was humming a song in his deep bass-voice, the melody he once dubbed 'Lily's Lullaby', rocking the chair back and forth.

It was crazy. Not the humming, not the rocking nor her perfect husband or two month old daughter. What was crazy was the fact that this was the umpteenth time this month he was here in the middle of the night. Hell, this month? This past half year. At least every other night, he was to be found in the nursery. She knew when it started and she knew why it started, but she could not quit figure out how he was able to function on this little amount of sleep.

It started the night Voldemort attacked. They were cuddled up on the couch: James, Lily and Harry. Harry was fast asleep on his dad's lap, James and Lily were in deep conversation about her pregnancy and forgiving people from the past. She was leading up to asking him to make up with Snape, once they were finally out of this damned house. Then he had heard footsteps on the gravel in their garden. He got up to let in the guest, surprised at the late hour, and she decided to put Harry to bed. She was halfway up the stairs when she heard him scream.

'Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off!'

Lily knew his wand was still on the couch, she knew she had to protect Harry and she knew the glance she cast over her shoulder to her husband would be the last time she'd see him alive. Torn, she ran up to the stairs into the nursery that was triple protected with charms. Slamming the door shut, she could hear the voice shouting Avada Kedavra and screamed his name.

'James!'

No. this could not be happening. Peter had betrayed them. Her husband was dead.

She put Harry in his crib, muttering how much she loved him and needed him to be safe. The door was blasted open. She didn't turn around to face him, didn't want to draw her wand. James was dead. Not even Harry was worth living for anymore.

'Avada Ked…'

'Expelliarmus!' a voice cut through.

She turned around in shock, seeing the pale white man without a wand. In the doorway, facing him with all of his Gryffindor courage, was James, his face was grave, pale and sweaty. How?

'Do it. Kill me then.'

But James didn't. He cast a patronus for help, as Lily paralysed the Dark Lord with a quick spell. After the aurors took him away, James held her and they cried. She learned how James was still alive and they cried more. He managed to duck out of the way – thank Merlin for quidditch – and hit his head on the floor. Too dizzy to get up, Voldemort thought he was dead, that his spell had hit target. Pride, luck and quidditch had saved James' life.

Even though they were still alive, all of them, even though Voldemort was locked up in Azkeban and Death Eaters were sentenced every day, that night still ached.

Peter betrayed them. Any Death Eater could come for revenge, as the house was now opened up. They could have been dead. And then there was the press stalking them at all times…

Ever since Daisy Rose Potter was born, it was a little easier on James, but sleep still eluded him.

'Did I wake you?'

Her husband's voice broke her from her reveries.

'Your absence did.'

He gave her a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

'Was she up?' Lily asked.

James nodded.

'Yeah, and so was I. didn't want to wake you and tell you it was your turn to change diapers.'

She took Daisy from him and placed her back in her crib after a kiss on the head. She sat down on his lap and he immediately wrapped himself around her, pressing his nose to her hair.

'I love you,' she whispered.

'I love you too. I'm sorry I'm so…'

'That's okay. I get it,' she interrupted him. 'I just worry about you.'

He cast down his eyes, his beautiful hazel eyes. Eyes that should be sparkling with life and mischief, not with tears.

'I'm sorry. You have enough to worry about.'

'We both do.'

She turned a little to face him.

'James. This war has made me lose too much already. My parents, yours, Mary… Don't let it take my husband from me as well.'

She was tearing up and he hated himself for it. Hurting her was far from what he wanted. She took a deep breath before she went on.

'It's over, James. The war is over. Let it be over. Don't dwell on the past. Move on. Be there for me, for Harry. Come to bed with me. Make love to me.'

He didn't say anything, couldn't say anything. She stood up, turning around in the doorway.

'Please, James.'

She went to bed when he didn't respond, curling up in her empty bed in a seemingly empty life. Then the door opened. She half expected Harry to have woken up, but it was James. Discarding his trousers, he walked over to her, crawling up the bed and tugging away the blankets.

For the first time in half a year, they made love. With each slow thrust, the emptiness around them fell away.

For the first time in half a year, James slept peacefully, wrapped in his wife's loving arms.


End file.
